It’s 7:17 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. I have already showered, brushed my teeth, etc. and am in the closet choosing my outfit for the day. The door to our walk-in closet is in the bathroom, so although I’m not far from the bedroom in actual distance, I am two rooms away.

I hear Jake call, “Baby, what time is it?”

I yell back through the two closed doors, “I’m in the closet, and you’re lying on the bed with a clock on either side of you.”

He replies, “But I’m not wearing my contacts, so I’d have to turn my head and squint!”

Yes. Clearly it is easier for me to come in from another room, put my head right next to his head, and read the clock to him from 1.5 feet away. Continued

I remember one of the first standup comics I ever saw was George Carlin. I was with my parents watching HBO in our first house in Florida. I was probably 9 or 10. I distinctly remember his seven dirty words routine. Yes, my parents let me watch the whole thing, even though it’s distinctly R-rated material, but it may have had something to do with the fact that my dad was laughing his ass off the entire time. Rarely have I seen my dad laugh so hard. I believe his own humor was very much in the same vein as Carlin’s. I didn’t understand everything Carlin was talking about at the time (“Dad, what’s a twat?”), but I remember I was blown away by how raw and powerful Carlin was. This was an awakening for me.